


wander into you

by xandrillia



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Actually There's a Little Plot, Adora is oblivious, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autumn, But maybe not, Catra's pining, F/F, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gay Panic, Light Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a little creepy at the beginning but then it's chill, but there's a little bit of an angst undertone but not much dw, catra is learning self-acceptance, it's cheesy but fun i wanted to write something nice, mostly just them being gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26952523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xandrillia/pseuds/xandrillia
Summary: Before today, Catra hadn’t really had much of an opinion on corn mazes. They were okay— midwest tradition, a little cheesy but maybe kind of fun, depending on who you’re with. Just kind of...whatever. She’d never really thought about it.Now, standing alone in what is possibly the biggest corn field she’s ever seen in her life, entirely lost, hours past sunset and probably miles beyond the maze’s borders, she’s starting to form a more colorful opinion of them.Well— she’s not entirely alone, because blondie here won’t stop following her. It’s getting kind of annoying, honestly, even though she’s the only person for miles and Catra’s one shot at getting out of this shitty field once and for all. She's not sure how much longer she can deal with this girl’s incessant positivity and that cocky smile she keeps throwing Catra’s way, either. It would all be fine (maybe even a little fun) if the girl weren't so obviouslystraight.But it’s fine. Catra can take care of herself.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 49
Kudos: 354





	wander into you

**Author's Note:**

> feeling a little homesick and also yearning (nothing new there) so uh here you go sorry about the midwest gothic i did not see that coming  
> my take on catratober days 5 & 10! no beta so all mistakes mine etc but i trust myself. i hope you enjoyyy  
>  **content warning for mention of alcohol**

Catra pushes through the stalks, batting leaves out of her face. Annoyed, irritated, and _very_ done with the little ‘adventure’ her roommate had insisted she come along to, Catra’s wondering why she even bothers sometimes. Scorpia means well, but when her plans go out the window, Catra’s usually the one left sitting in the dust.

Like right now, for instance. Scorpia had entered their group in a _corn maze race_ of all things. Catra has no idea where she gets these ideas. It would have been fine if she’d been with someone she liked, but Catra’s partner had ditched five minutes in, map in hand, and Catra wasn’t about to go chasing after Lonnie, especially as she was probably going to go hang out with Rogelio and Kyle.

She’s trying not to be bitter about it. Sure, she and Lonnie aren’t really that close and had only been paired for the race because they were the last two singles, but seriously? _Kyle?_

Cold-hearted.

Admittedly, spending an hour listening to Kyle’s incessant rambling would probably have been better than the mess she’s in now. She’d last seen Lonnie over two hours ago, and the sun’s slow descent has turned into a fast fall, evening slipping to night at an alarming rate. Somewhere along her wandering (an attempt to simply get _out_ rather than find the little trinkets interspersed throughout the maze her team was supposed to collect), Catra had chosen a path that dwindled to nothing. Before she knew it, she was standing beyond the maze between the endless ill-maintained rows of towering corn without any sense of where she’d come from. So much for keeping to the left.

Now, with a dead phone and maybe half an hour before full night, Catra’s starting to panic. She grew up in one of the most cramped cities in the world, but here, under endless sky, surrounded by rolling fields of open land, she feels more claustrophobic than ever before in her life. The stalks over her head close her in, separating her from the sky’s rapidly fading light. There’s only so far she can see in any direction without a flashlight. Barely able to see her hands in front of her, the ground is absolutely out of question, making her progress slow-going.

The dark is unnerving, but it’s the silence that really gets to her. She’s used to constant traffic running like groundwater through every crack in the city back home. Overlapping voices, music pouring from some apartment down the street. Sirens and alarms clashing against concrete, everything constant and dialed to 10.

Whispering leaves, hushed wind, and silence wherever she turns. Footsteps muted against the damp earth. Her own breathing, loud in her ears but too quiet to ever take up any semblance of space in the endless countryside around her. Slanted light playing tricks on her eyes, flashes of gold too near the ground where the sun’s light doesn’t reach. Shadows, twisting just out of her clear line of sight.

Catra never believed in ghosts, but she’s starting to wonder about monsters. All at once, too many stories crowd her head: watchful eyes, whispered words, ill intent and incessant illusions. Vulnerability in isolation. She hears her own breath catch. She fights not to look over her shoulder, knowing it’ll only increase her paranoia.

Hesitantly, Catra brings her hand next to her ear. She’s sure she’s imagining the blanket over the field, trapping all sound and muting her thoughts into a quiet buzz, but something needs to change. The world is at once too silent and deafeningly loud, rushing silence burning her from the inside out. Wincing prematurely, Catra snaps her fingers.

The world hisses in protest, the noise far too sharp for the soft-edged sound covering the field. She flinches at the sound but it brings her back to herself. The spell broken, Catra takes a tentative step with a relieved sigh, suddenly grounded again. Her footsteps seem louder than before. It’s just corn, after all. The hissing only the wind, and the muted noise only due to the close proximity of the stalks. She’s fine— alone, sure but the sky is the same as it’s always been, bruised purple and blue, the earth under her feet the same planet she’s known her whole life. It’s only a field.

Her panic gone, she can set things straight. She just needs to pick a direction. Turning slowly on the spot, Catra sticks her hands in her pockets in a vain attempt to stave off the chill. There’s something different about the silence now that she’s not about to freak out over it, and it takes her a moment to place it.

The difference is that it’s broken. Catra freezes, eyes widening as she tries to catch a glimpse of whatever it is that’s sending the corn rustling so jarringly a few rows over. The corn sways. She takes a step back.

Something’s coming toward her.

This is when Catra learns the distinction between fear, terror, and horror.

Fear is what has been creeping in her veins the last two hours, building slowly with the knowledge that she is lost and alone, but the situation is salvageable yet.

Terror is the noise before her, drawing closer with every second, something unknown, unexpected, and uninvited. It’s Catra turning to run because there’s no way monsters _actually_ exist, but she’s not sticking around to find out.

Horror is when she falls. Horror is the ice in her veins, the panic turning the world to static around her. Horror is when the footsteps stop above her.

She kicks out, catching the figure in the knee. It’s too dark to tell anything about them as they go down in a flash, Catra grabbing their ankle and pulling hashly while she kicks again, this one aimed toward their stomach as they fall. They hit the ground with a shout. Catra scrambles to her feet, breathing hard.

“Who are you?” she asks, voice loud with alarm. Buzzing with electricity, she’s ready to run at a moment’s notice, but this figure— a person, she sees now, not one of the golden creatures she swears she sees lurking through the stalks just out of her clear range of vision, burning brighter than the twilight sky— is the only other she’s seen for hours and she’s wary of giving up a chance at company. Catra steps back.

“Hey— wait!”

Catra freezes. The person holds up their hands, still on the ground. “Wait,” they repeat. Catra doesn’t know how she must look to the stranger— panicked college student in a dark jacket and ripped jeans, cheap silver jewelry completing her more than slightly punk look, all out of place because she’s in the middle of a damn _cornfield_ , but they seem as shocked to see her as Catra is.

“What are you doing here?” Catra asks, her voice too panicked to her own ears. Something brushes her shoulder and she jumps, landing a good three feet away from where she’d been. _Shit_ — the person on the ground laughs at her, cutting off when Catra shoots a glare toward them.

“Sorry,” they gasp, stifling their laughter. “I shouldn’t laugh, you just—” they break off, giggling again. Catra flushes in annoyance both at the person’s reaction and her own skittishness.

“What are you doing here?” she repeats, panic turning to annoyance. She’d been sprinting through the field, and for what? To avoid some country hick wandering the fields at sundown?

The person calms, climbing slowly to their feet with their hands held placatingly in front of them. Off of the dark floor, Catra’s able to get a better look at her pursuer. Blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, wide eyes, and a tentative smile on her face like she’s afraid she’ll scare Catra off.

“I’m lost,” she says, straightening. She’s taller than Catra, which isn’t saying much, but it still irks her for some reason. Her hand dances over her stomach for a moment, the sole of Catra’s boot imprinted in mud against her t-shirt. She rolls her shoulders with a wince. “Sorry for scaring you, I shouted a few times but…” she shrugs sheepishly. “I guess you didn’t hear me.”

Catra scoffs. “Obviously not. Anyway, sound is weird in here.” The girl tilts her head. Her blonde hair glints deep gold in the light of the setting sun.

“What do you mean? It’s just a field.”

“No, it’s—” Catra breaks off. “I don’t know. It’s weird.”

The girl nods slowly, clearly not understanding what she means, but lets it go. “Well, I was hoping you knew where you were going?”

Catra raises an eyebrow. Relaxing slightly, she realizes her hands are in fists and drops them to her sides, shuffling back a step. “Hate to break it to you, blondie, but I’m as lost as you are.”

The girl frowns. “Seriously?”

Catra rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well corn mazes aren’t exactly my forte, either.” The girl pouts. A moment later, her unhappiness is replaced with a searingly bright smile, all hopeful eyes and optimism. Catra nearly throws up from the force of it.

“Well, at least we’re together, right?”

Catra takes a slow look at her, from her muddy tennis shoes and letterman jacket to overeager smile, not at all dampened by the fact that, against all probability, she’s just found a strange, slightly-punk girl wandering the corn stalks after sunset a mile away from the maze they’d both managed to get lost from.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

Her smile widens. “Cool. I’m Adora, by the way.” She holds out her hand.

Catra looks at it for a moment, then back to the girl. “Catra.” She holds her ground when the girl steps closer, slowly reaching for Catra’s hand.

“You do know what a handshake is, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m not a millennial, princess.”

“Princess?”

“Why else would you be so formal?” Catra smirks at her blush, visible even in the low light as she turns to continue her erratic path through the field. “C’mon, dummy, time’s a-wastin.”

-

Eventually, they find their way to the top of a hill. Catra can only tell because they’d been climbing steadily upward for ages, the ground before her now suddenly beginning it’s descent.

“See anything?” she calls over her shoulder. Adora huffs out an annoyed breath.

“No.”

Catra stops walking. It’s full night, now, the moon and stars from above providing the barest amount of light to their path. While Adora’s phone still has some battery, they’d decided using the flashlight would be too much of a risk in case it died before they got service.

“I was hoping we’d be able to see _something_ from up here,” Catra mutters. Adora nods in agreement. She hops experimentally, but she’s still far too short to see anything.

“Me, too,” she agrees, then pauses. “I’m tall,” she says. Catra raises an eyebrow.

“Um, okay?”

Adora laughs, a bright sound that Catra’s finding she likes more and more every time she hears it. “No— I mean, if I picked you up you’d probably be able to see,” she explains.

Yeah, that’s a little much. Catra’s trying Very Hard not to get too close to this weird country jock girl who’s totally straight (she’s even wearing some football player’s letterman jacket, probably her boyfriend’s) and definitely not interested in Catra in the way that Catra’s starting to see her. Catra curses herself. Of all the people she could crush on, she’s picked a random stranger who is by no means interested and entirely off-limits. Catra lets her thoughts run away for a moment, listing all the reasons she and Adora do _not_ work together before realizing that Adora’s waiting for an answer. She looks up. With Adora staring at her, all Catra can manage is a quiet “...what?” before Adora’s moving toward her.

“See, look— piggyback, right, but then you stand on my hands and you should be able to see—”

Catra tries very hard not to crush on straight girls. It’s always an accident when it happens, but it ends up being a very bad experience for everyone involved, although Catra’s the only one who ever _really_ knows what’s up. She’s broken more than one friendship that way, getting defensive and pushing people away rather than explaining herself.

This is another one of those times. Not that they’re friends, per se. Just in the same sinking ship.

“Can you actually do that?” she asks. Adora rolls her eyes and points to her jacket.

“Football, duh. Lifting is basically the whole point.”

Oh. Not her boyfriend’s. Catra narrows her eyes. “So you’re a princess _and_ a jock?” she asks. Defense— this is good. Equal footing. Adora laughs again, standing too close to Catra.

“Can’t I be both?”

“No.”

“Well, right now it’s jock. Hop up.” She spins around. Catra puts her hands on Adora’s shoulders and jumps onto her back. Adora doesn’t even move, which is stupid because she’s got a whole person on her back and isn’t fazed at all and Catra is _not_ blushing. She shifts her feet to stand on Adora’s hands, held level at her hips, and takes her hands from Adora’s shoulders as she straightens. Her boots are caked in mud and must be making a mess of Adora’s hands, but she doesn’t say anything. Catra looks up.

“Shit,” she mutters. She puts one hand on Adora’s head for balance, raising the other to cover her eyes. Up here, she’s basically blinded by the moonlight on the rippling stalks, starlight cascading like liquid silver over the hills. It reminds her of the ocean at night, light glimpsing off of the tips of waves. It’s strangely beautiful.

“Anything?” Adora asks.

“Yeah, a silo over...fifteen rows, maybe, and down about half a mile.” Adora nods, and stops when she realizes she’s throwing Catra’s balance.

“I don’t see anything else, though. Just hills.” Catra moves her hands to Adora’s shoulders and jumps down lightly, although she stumbles slightly when her feet hit the ground. Adora catches her arm to steady her.

“Better than nothing,” she says with yet another bright smile. Catra nods. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she nods in the direction she’d seen the silo. Adora’s hand falls from her arm.

“We’d better go.”

Adora hums agreement. “Sure thing.” She spins on the spot, the opposite direction Catra had pointed. “Um. What did you say again?”

Catra pushes between the stalks, skipping over a few rows to where she’d approximated the silo to be. Adora follows close behind without complaint. Normally Catra would be one to advocate for personal space, but she doesn’t want Adora out of sight or reach. She’s sure they’re alone, but the wind doesn’t do much to calm her imagination. Neither do the endless rows, pathways anything could run up at any time.

Reaching the fifteenth row and hoping she was right, Catra turns, grabbing Adora’s arm to pull her along the row with her. Breaking through the rows is worse than going along them, and Catra finds that she’s used to the leaves brushing through her hair and against her jacket as she walks between them.

“Sh—” Adora stumbles behind her, foot catching on a raised root. She hits the ground hard, face nearly smacking the earth, barely catching herself with outstretched palms. She groans.

“You good?” Catra asks, pulling Adora to her feet. Her hands are cold in Catra’s. She nods.

“Lost my balance for a minute. All good, though,” she reassures with a smile. Catra pauses. That, the kind of...absence Adora has answered some of Catra’s questions with, her stumbling, the optimism— it clicks.

“Wait a mi— are you _drunk?”_

Adora laughs nervously. “I’m maybe a little tipsy.”

“How tipsy?”

Adora squints and holds her fingers together, the tiniest breadth of space between them. “Just a little.”

“A little.”

“Are you just going to keep repeating everything I say?”

Catra bites back a childish retort with a laugh, knowing it would get a rise out of the other girl but strangely finding that she doesn’t really _want_ to annoy her. “Whatever, princess. As long as you can keep walking, we’re good.” Adora smiles.

“We’re good.”

-

Heights. Of course it’s heights.

“You coming?”

Catra steps back. “I’ll keep watch from down here,” she says. Against her will, she checks over her shoulder. She’d done it once an hour ago, and once she’d started, she couldn’t stop. She knows she’s alone— except for Adora, that is— but her stupid eyes keep betraying her every time she finds herself looking for what she knows isn’t there. No one told her Iowa could be this creepy.

“Nuh-uh, you’re not making me do this alone,” Adora says, breaking her out of her thoughts. She grabs Catra’s hand and pulls her toward the base of the silo. A ladder climbs up the side, blocked off near the top but without railings for the first two stories. She reaches up and slaps the lowest rung, seven feet off the ground, nodding when she rocks back on her heels.

“I can do that,” she says to herself. She turns to Catra. “Need a lift?”

“No.”

Adora laughs. “C’mon. I’ve got you.” Catra backs away.

“Jeez, you’re like my roommate,” she remarks with a sigh. “No sense of personal space.”

“You can blame it on the tipsy.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re just always like that.”

Adora doesn’t try to hide her smile. “Maybe. Anyway, I’m not leaving you to get attacked by corn monsters.”

Catra raises an eyebrow. “Corn monsters? Wait— I don’t want to hear this on the ground.” She checks over her shoulder again— damn.

“I can—”

“Nope.” Eyeing the ladder, Catra dismisses Adora’s offer to help and steps forward. “I’m good.” She’s not lying; she didn’t place second in a national gymnastics tournament for nothing. Just to show off, Catra jumps and grabs the second lowest rung instead of the first. She pulls herself up effortlessly, swinging one foot up to land on the ladder once she’s high enough. Standing, she blows a loose strand of hair out of her face and turns to Adora.

“You coming?” she asks. Adora blinks. She nods, running a hand through her hair before following Catra up.

“What was it you said about corn monsters?” Catra asks, calling down to Adora. The wind is considerably colder up here, stinging her eyes and singing against the silo’s metal exterior. She wishes she had a hat or hood to block it.

“You know,” Adora says. Her voice is barely audible, and Catra pauses to hear her. Adora stops, too, tilting her head back to look at Catra. “The stories, that the fields are haunted and stuff.”

Catra shivers involuntarily. She hopes Adora didn’t see it. “Shit, like I needed that,” she mutters.

“What, have you never heard of them?”

“Not really,” she admits, and keeps climbing. Adora gapes at her, still frozen.

“Catra, this is _Iowa._ Corn is our _thing."_

“Well, you’re stuck with a city girl, aren’t you?”

“Oo, am I getting some history here?”

“No way, princess.”

“What city?”

“Nope.”

 _“Catra,"_ Adora whines. Something in Catra’s chest jumps. “Why not?”

“I’m not telling my life story to some stranger I quite literally _ran into_ only hours ago.”

Silence.

Catra looks down to Adora as she climbs, trying to sight her expression. It’s easier to see her here without the shadows of the field, and she looks almost...disappointed? Catra’s not sure what to think about that. She keeps climbing, footsteps even on the rungs. The cold metal bites her fingers. The wind tugs at her hair, threatening to pull it from its bun. Adora lets the silence stretch.

Catra sighs. “What?”

“I dunno,” Adora says immediately. “I’m just...only a stranger?”

Catra stops.

Adora waits.

“Fine,” Catra mutters. “You’re kind of cool, I guess. Although I don’t think you should be scaling the side of a silo half-drunk.” Adora’s laugh echoes across the night. For a moment, the rippling waves of crops seem to still, taking in the clear sound, a breath of clarity in an otherwise muddled night. Catra forces herself to keep climbing instead of chasing that laugh, the one that she’s been trying to pull out of Adora since she first heard it. _Focus._ They’re a good three stories off the ground, now, without any railings closing the ladder in, which has to be some kind of safety violation. Then again, Catra doesn’t expect that that many farmers get kids climbing their property miles from the nearest town.

Finally, the top of the silo comes into view. Catra pulls herself up and reaches down to help Adora, although both know she doesn’t need it. Thankfully, a sturdy railing encircles the roof around an even platform running along the edge.

“Damn,” Catra whispers at the sight before her. Adora nods agreement. They walk the edge of the silo, searching for anything other than endless shifting corn. Catra didn’t know it was possible for the world to look so big or empty, but all there is, horizon to horizon, is blank fields.

The sky, on the other hand, is anything but blank. Catra has traveled before, but never anywhere as remote as this. Countless stars, thousands more than she’s ever imagined, spread across the sky in a dusting of silver. She doesn’t know their stories but finds she wants to, an inclination she’s never felt before. Everything in her life is so stagnant, so singular and down to earth, her life set to a steady beat of music she’d never been able to hear. Her entire life, endless monotony from which she’s never been able to escape. Suffocating her whole life, and here, under the stars in a strange new town thousands of miles from home, a stranger at her side, Catra’s finally able to breathe.

“Catra?”

She pulls her gaze from the stars, slightly breathless. “Yeah?”

Adora smiles softly. “You okay?”

“Hm? Oh—" Catra passes a hand over her face. She clears her throat, embarrassed. “Yeah. I’m good. Hey, do you know where the sun set?” Hoping to switch the conversation from where it might lead to herself, Catra crosses her arms and waits for Adora’s answer. She knows Adora saw too much in the expression she hadn’t thought to hide. She hopes Adora won’t ask.

Adora tilts her head, caught off guard. “What? I dunno. Why?”

Catra resists the urge to roll her eyes. “So we can know where we are, duh.”

“Why use the sun?” Adora asks, seeming genuinely confused. She rolls with the topic change without question. Catra appreciates it.

“I’m sorry, princess, do you see any compasses lying around?” she asks, overly-sweet. Adora, to her credit, steps up to her with a matching honeyed smile.

“‘Course, I do _,_ _darling._ Just not what you’re thinking.” Adora turns her eyes to the sky, taking Catra’s hand to point to a particularly bright star above them. “Polaris.”

“Like...the north star?” Catra asks, but her eyes aren’t on the sky. Adora doesn’t seem to notice Catra watching her, the gentle light of the stars spilling over her skin, eyes lit brighter than Catra’s seen them before now. She hadn’t noticed Adora’s eyes when they’d first met, the dusk sky too dark to catch their color. Neither had she noticed in the hours of wandering, shadows flitting over her face to hide the summer sky she sees the world through. She’s— pretty. It’s a simple realization, one that nearly sends Catra stumbling backward.

“Your eyes—” the words slip out unbidden. Catra falters. Adora’s gaze snaps to hers.

“ _Your_ eyes,” she repeats with a cheesy grin.

“Shut up, Adora,” Catra mutters, but Adora’s smile only widens.

“Is that the first time you’ve used my name?”

“Oh my god.”

“Are we—" Adora steps closer and puts her hands over her heart, still holding Catra’s in hers. Warmth radiates off her skin, a stinging contrast to the chilly night air. “Are we having a moment?”

“Not if you keep talking,” Catra scoffs.

“Oh, so we _are_ having a moment.”

“Shut up, blondie,” she says, but there’s laughter in her voice and she knows that Adora can see her blush even in the faint starlight.

“ _Anyway,”_ Adora stresses, raising an eyebrow. She raises her free hand and traces a line in the sky from Polaris to the horizon, sighting a distant hill to her left. “The sun set there, and—" she pushes Catra’s shoulder, to spin her gently on the spot. Adora leans over Catra’s shoulder, hands sliding around her _waist_ , and Catra can’t really take this but holds still anyway. “There’s where the maze should be.”

Catra nods mutely. Adora tucks her face into Catra’s shoulder with a sigh, skin cold against her neck. Catra slowly cover’s Adora’s hands with her own where they rest around her waist. Adora is clearly just one of those overly-friendly girls with no sense of boundaries, but her warmth is distracting enough that Catra leans into her before she can think twice. She blushes again, eyes set on the stars before her. With Adora so close, the wind doesn’t seem so bad.

“You couldn’t have done that a hour ago?” she asks softly.

“Hm. Didn’t think of it until you said the sun thing.” Adora’s voice buzzes in her chest, way too close and way too personal. Catra doesn’t move.

“So you’re more than a ‘little’ tipsy,” Catra responds with a raised eyebrow. She turns in Adora’s arms, waiting for a response. Adora looks up and opens her mouth to respond but pauses. She flashes a sideways smile.

“Maybe.”

“Uh-huh. Alright, let’s go.”

-

On the way down, Catra can’t focus. She keeps thinking about the way Adora had been watching her when she was distracted, her arms around her waist, wearing the stupid smile that Catra keeps trying to draw out of her.

Right off the bat, she’d sighted Adora as _straight_. Most people have a very specific vibe that’s easy to pick up on if you know what you’re looking for, and Catra’s starting to wonder if she misread Adora’s initial signals. Whatever’s going on, something isn’t lining up.

She sighs and continues climbing. She needs to focus. _Three points of contact,_ she says to herself as she moves her hand and foot at the same time. She reaches for the next rung down. Fumbling the rung, something flashes before her, a shadow against dark metal. There’s an indignant _squawk,_ a flush of feathers, and a small weight in her face before she can think to close her eyes. She jerks backward with a scream (very cool, Catra) and raises a hand to protect her eyes. There’s a scratch at her other hand and she’s _falling,_ tipping backward, stars spinning and foot slipping from the rung, nothing to catch her but the distant ground, thin air whistling past—

The stars halt their spinning in a shocking jolt. Pain sears a bright line through Catra’s arm, dull where Adora’s fingers dig into her forearm, bright where her shoulder takes her weight. Stars explode across her vision as her face smacks Adora’s knee, but she doesn’t have time to think before the pressure on her shoulder increases suddenly. Adora pulls her up next to her, Catra’s boots clanging on the rung a step above Adora’s. She snaps her arm around Catra’s waist as Catra locks her elbow around the ladder’s edge, free hand clenched in Adora’s jacket to hold herself steady. For a moment, there’s silence.

Heights. It had to be heights.

“Are you okay?” Adora’s wide eyes search her for injury. On the step above her, Catra has the illusion of height, a strange twist that’s almost more off-putting than her fall.

“Did you just…” Catra falters, dizzy from the plunge and sudden save. “Um— that was one-handed.”

Adora relaxes slightly. She’s out of breath, too, shaking slightly. “Don’t give me all the credit. You _are_ only, like, five flat.” Catra bristles.

“I’m five-two.”

“Mhm.” Adora’s arm tightens around her waist. Her expressions softens, concerned eyes meeting Catra’s. “Seriously, are you okay?”

Catra nods sharply. “Fine. Thanks.” Still shaking, Adora waits until Catra moves to let her go.

“I’m good,” she repeats quietly, reaching for the next rung down. Adora nods.

“I don’t like birds,” she adds with a frown.

Adora laughs and withdraws her arm, leaving Catra free to continue climbing. The next time she tells herself to keep three points of contact, she listens.

-

“So,” Adora says, some thirty minutes later. “Any hobbies?”

“Oh my god,” Catra mutters. She rolls her eyes and keeps walking. Without any other goal in sight, they’ve been following a semi-straight line toward where Adora guessed the corn maze was. They stop periodically to check the stars, which Catra has to admit is a pretty cool skill to have.

“What?” Adora asks.

“Hobbies? Really?”

“I’m bored! And I want to know more about you,” she protests. Catra wants to throw herself into the corn and never reappear. She resists the urge.

“Well, ‘hobbies’ isn’t the place to start,” she shoots over her shoulder. There’s a moment of silence but for their footsteps and rustling leaves.

“Okay,” Adora says eventually. “Why’d you come to Iowa?”

“College. Do you live here?”

“Hey, that’s not a good answer!”

“Should’ve asked something better.”

“Okay.” Adora grabs her arm. She spins Catra around and steps close, hand sliding from her arm to intertwine her fingers with Catra’s. “Are you gay?”

Catra’s jaw drops. Who the _hell_ is this girl? Still, she can’t deny the looks she’d seen Adora toss her earlier, the easy way they get along. It’s like they’ve known each other their entire lives rather than a couple hours. Catra’s not sure what to do about the sudden closeness she has with this stranger, but apparently Adora is.

“Wh— that’s a step up, princess,” she splutters, blushing furiously.

“I thought you wanted a good question!”

Catra blinks. It’s better than _hobbies_ , she supposes. She laughs soundlessly, in exasperation or shock she doesn't know. “Yeah, I am. Are you?” Adora’s smile turns shy.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t sound too sure of yourself, there, Adora.” She bites back a smile at Adora’s laugh, this one quiet and for Catra only. Adora raises a hand to Catra’s cheek, soft starlight catching the gentle blue of her eyes, a bright spotlight against the dark sea surrounding them. Catra’s eyes widen. Before she can think, breathe, do anything, Adora presses a chase kiss against her lips.

“That sure enough for you?” she asks. Catra’s heart flutters.

“Jury’s still out,” Catra teases. She tangles her hand in Adora’s collar and pulls her back in. The chill of the night falls away, sudden warmth burning in Catra’s chest, tracing lines where Adora’s hand rests against her face, bright fire sparking through her veins. She leans into the kiss, too lightheaded with happiness to question it. After a moment, Adora breaks away with another quiet laugh. She doesn’t go far, tilting her forehead against Catra’s.

“I have no idea what I would’ve done if you said no,” she whispers. Her breath is warm against Catra’s mouth. Catra’s fingers curl in Adora’s hair. She hums, buzzing with energy. 

“Well I said yes, so kiss me again, dummy.”

-

Catra finally— _finally_ — steps out of the field. The last they’d seen was 11:40 before Adora’s phone (recently dead, a tragic occasion for which they held a brief funeral) quit from the cold. It must be near two am and she should be exhausted, but talking with Adora fills her with a warm buzz, comforting and natural.

“Thank god,” she mutters, pushing her hair out of her face with her free hand. Her other hand is in Adora’s, and although there’s no chance of losing her in the open, she doesn’t let go.

“We made it,” Adora agrees. She flops to the ground, somewhat awkwardly as they’re on the edge of a ditch between them and the road. Catra reluctantly lets go of Adora’s hand to jog to climb the small hill, straightening at the top. She stands before an empty two-lane backroad, currently deserted, but well enough maintained that Catra assumes someone will be along soon.

“Do you recognize this?” Catra calls out. Adora props herself up on one elbow and shakes her head. Catra sighs. She looks up at the sky again. In the field she’d only been able to see what was directly above her, and she’s reminded now of the silo. Perched on top of the world, close enough to burn her hands on the stars if she reached far enough. Adora takes her hand, suddenly next to her.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” she says, shaking her head to focus. “Hitchhiking, then?” Adora grimaces.

“I guess. Or I could call Glimmer.”

“Who?”

“My roommate,” she supplies.

“Glimmer? That’s a nickname, right?” Catra asks in disbelief. There’s no way someone actually named a _child_ that. If so, Catra has to reconsider her decision to attend school out here — people are just too damn weird.

Adora laughs. “Yeah, it’s a long story. She’ll still be waiting at the maze, though, or raising hell somewhere nearby— she and Bow are _very_ protective, although she hides it behind an astonishing amount of anger.” Catra nods. Before she can respond, headlights crest the horizon. “Look!” Adora gasps, pulling her forward. Catra stumbles after her. They wave at the headlights, trying their best not to look like axe-murderers or whoever else might get picked up from the side of the road in the dead of night.

The car slows to a stop before them, driver’s-side window rolling down. Catra grimaces at the intensity of the lights.

“Hi,” Adora calls hesitantly. Catra is painfully aware of how much of a mess they are, leaves in their hair and dried mud on their clothes. Two women sit in the car, expressions of concern and distrust across their faces. The woman driving leans forward to squint at them.

“You two okay?” she calls, shielding her eyes against the car’s bright interior lights. Her dark eyes narrow in concern.

“We’re lost,” Adora explains, tightening her hold on Catra’s hand.

“Could you give us a ride to town?” Catra cuts in. The woman turns to the person in the passenger seat. After a quiet conversation, she turns back to Catra and Adora.

“Where are you headed?” she calls. Adora shrugs with a quick glance at Catra.

“Anywhere with people, really.”

“Come on in,” she calls. The side doors unlock.

Catra doesn’t want it to end. Wandering miles at night with a stranger hadn’t exactly been on her bucket list, but she’s not ready for it to be over. Still, she follows Adora to the car, sliding in the backseat with a muttered apology for the mud on her boots. She’s better off than Adora, though, whose hands are covered in long-dried dirt, her jacket streaked with it from when Catra kicked her to the ground. Oops.

“You’re fine, dear,” the other woman assures. “I’m Ella, and this is Natasha.” Catra and Adora introduce themselves quickly and explain how they’d each gotten lost from the maze.

“How did you find each other?” Natasha asks. “Seems pretty improbable.” She checks over her shoulder quick before pulling back onto the road.

“Natasha,” her wife reprimands. “Some things just work out like that.”

Adora looks at their linked hands. She shrugs halfway, and her smile to Catra is all warmth. “Yeah, we just kind of...wandered into each other.”

Catra smiles. Maybe Scorpia’s plans aren’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> did someone say _brainrot_?????? yeah i'm yearning. i hope y'all enjoyed, i personally have no idea what this was but it was really fun to write!! def not as serious as what i usually post but maybe that means y'all will get more fluff in the future. who knows!!  
> comment if you want (they make my dayyy) and here's my [twitter](https://twitter.com/xandrillia) if you ever want to talk :)  
> thanks for reading!!


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